He did not have long to wait. Seemingly, whoever the marauders were--and
as to their identity the lad could hazard a pretty good guess--they did
not bother much about lowering their voices.
"By the jumping crickey!" he heard coming over the water from the
schooner, "jiggered if I kin make out what they cal'kelated ter use this
hulk fer."
"Hush! Not so loud, pop. Ther sound carries tur'rble fur over ther
water."
"As if I didn't know thet, Zeb, but what do we care? Them kids is fast
asleep, and anyhow, we cut the dinghy adrift so they couldn't do us any
harm ef they wanted to."
"Thet's right, too; but some of 'em might be prowling about. They're up
ter all sorts uv tricks. I ain't forgot thet thar fence, I kin tell yer.
My arm's a-tingling yet whar thet electricity hit me."
Soaked through as he was, and chilly into the bargain, Harry couldn't
help smiling as he heard this eloquent testimonial to the efficacy of
the "charged" fence. He had caught the name of "Zeb," too, which
speedily removed all doubt from his mind as to the identity of the
marauders.
"The precious rascals," he thought, while his teeth chattered with cold,
"I'm mighty glad I did swim out here, even if I am almost frozen to
death. If they aren't under arrest to-morrow it won't be my fault."
Little more was heard from the schooner, but from what he could catch he
surmised that the two fishers were completely mystified by the craft.
Presently he heard their footsteps descending the gangway and then came
the splash of oars. They were dipped silently no longer, a pretty sure
sign that the two rascals didn't much care if they were heard or not.
After a moment the splashing sound grew more remote, and Harry knew that
the two prowlers had taken their departure.
There was a scull in the motor boat and as soon as he was sure that the
Daniels were out of earshot, Harry up anchored and began sculling the
motor boat toward the hulk. The distance was so short that he did not
want to bother to start the engine, and in a few seconds he was
alongside the dark hulk. He shoved along the side till the motor boat
grated against the gangway, and then, not forgetting to make the motor
craft fast, he leaped up the steps, with the purpose of discovering what
harm, if any, had been wrought aboard the _Betsy Jane_.
Harry knew where a lantern was kept, and descending into what had once
been the cabin he began rummaging about for it. In the pitchy blackness
the task took him longer than he had anticipated, but at last he found
the lantern and the matches which lay beside it. Hastily striking a
light he soon had the bare cabin filled with the yellow rays of the
lamp. As has been explained, the _Betsy Jane_ had been purchased as a
sort of "trying-out" appliance for the inventions of Dr. Perkins, and
therefore the cabin contained nothing in the way of furniture. The lamp,
in fact, had only been placed on board as a precaution in case a riding
light was ever needed on the anchored hulk. But as she had remained at
her moorings in the isolated cove this was not, of course, necessary.
A brief look about the cabin showed Harry that nothing had been molested
there. In fact, as has been said, there was nothing to molest. A door in
the forward bulkhead led into the empty hold, and the boy next made his
way there, the lamp casting weird shadows on the timbers as he went. His
steps rang hollowly through the deserted ship, and he could hardly
repress a shudder as he threaded his way among the stanchions, which,
like the pillars in a church, upheld the deck above his head.
Reaching what had been the forecastle of the _Betsy Jane_, Harry came to
the conclusion that nothing had been damaged below. His next task was to
go up on deck. His examination below decks had been painstaking, and had
occupied him some time, but he was determined to make it a thorough one.
The fact is that an ugly suspicion had crept into Harry's mind as he lay
in the bottom of the motor boat listening to the two Daniels on board
the schooner. This was nothing more nor less than a dread that they
might have "scuttled" the craft. From what he knew of them the two were
capable of anything, and he thought that in their rage at finding
nothing on board that they could damage they might have bored holes in
the schooner in order to sink her. His investigation of the hold,
however, had shown him--to his great relief--that nothing of the sort had
occurred.
Coming on deck Harry made as careful a search for damage as he had done
in the hold. But the inclined superstructure remained intact, and
nothing indicated that the Daniels had done anything more than stroll
about, trying to discover what the object of the schooner was.
So intent had Harry been on his task that he had, for the time being,
completely forgotten that Pudge must be anxiously looking for him. Going
into the eyes of the craft he sent a hearty hail ashore:
"Pudge ahoy! Oh-h-h-h, Pu-d-g-e!"
Then he stopped to listen intently. But no reply came to his hail. He
tried it again and again, without success. Then he determined as a last
resort to fire the agreed-upon three shots. He did not want to alarm his
companions unnecessarily, but surely, he thought, it would be a good
idea to arouse them and communicate what had occurred since he left the
hut.
Up to that moment the boy had completely forgotten that he had left the
pistol on the beach. He felt compelled to laugh at himself for his
absentmindedness, but while the laugh was still on his lips something
happened that caused it to freeze there.
A mass of cold spray was suddenly projected over the bow. At the same
instant the old hulk quivered at the smart "slap" of a wave.
"Gracious!" thought Harry to himself, "the sea must be getting up. I
reckon I'd best be going back ashore."
As he made his way aft toward the gangway he found that the sea must
indeed have risen since he came on board. The old hulk was rolling about
like a bottle, and he had to hold on to the rail as he made his way
along the decks. Getting into the motor boat under these conditions was
no easy task. But it was accomplished at last.
"I guess I'll start the engine before I cut adrift," said Harry to
himself.
Later on he was to be very thankful he did. Turning on the switch and
gasolene he began to "spin" the fly wheel; but beyond a wheezy cough the
motor gave no sign of responding. For more than half an hour the boy
worked with might and main over the refractory bit of machinery, but to
no effect. The engine was absolutely "dead."
"What can be the matter with it?" thought Harry to himself. "It's never
acted this way before."
He stood up, too engrossed in his problem to realize what a sea was
running. Before he could recover his balance the pitching craft almost
bucked him overboard.
"Gracious! the waves are getting up with a vengeance," exclaimed the boy
to himself; "I can never scull ashore in this sea. Queer, too, there,
doesn't seem to be any more wind than when I left shore. Certainly I've
never seen the sea as rough as this in the inlet before."
With the object of finding out what ailed the obstinate motor, he
returned to the deck of the schooner where he had left the lamp. Getting
into the motor boat with it once more, by dint of much balancing and
holding on he cast its rays on the single cylinder. Almost
simultaneously he saw what had happened. Somebody, he had no difficulty
in guessing who, had removed the sparking points. No wonder that no
explosion had followed his efforts to get the craft under way.
"Well, here's a fine fix," thought Harry; "even if I could attract their
attention ashore I've got no means of getting there. Oh, if I won't get
even with those Daniels as soon as I get a chance! Wonder what I'd
better do?"
His first move was to clamber back on board the schooner, for the wild
rolling of the motor boat, as she plunged about at the foot of the
gangway, was not helpful to thought. Gaining the deck once more Harry
sought out the cabin and seated himself on the edge of one of the empty
bunks which ranged its sides.
Suddenly it occurred to him that he was uncommonly sleepy, and at the
same time he thought that possibly it would be a good idea to pass the
rest of the night in slumber. He had no watch, but he imagined that it
could not be so very far to daylight. With this object in view he cast
himself down in the bunk and, despite the hardness of the bed and the
chilliness of his scantily clad limbs, he rapidly slipped away from his
surroundings into a dreamless sleep.
When he awoke the sun was shining through the stern ports. That is, it
was for one instant, and then in the next it was obscured again. Harry
was enough of a sailor to know that this meant a cloudy day, with
possibly a piping wind scurrying the clouds across the sky.
"Thank goodness it's daylight anyhow!" he exclaimed, jumping from his
uncomfortable couch, with an ache in every limb in his body; "now to go
on deck and attract their attention ashore."
Utterly unprepared for the shock that was to greet him, Harry bounded up
the companionway stairs and on to the deck.
Had a bomb exploded at his feet he could not have been more
thunderstruck than he was at the sight which greeted him.
There was no island, no distant mainland. Nothing but miles upon miles
of tumbling blue water in which the _Betsy Jane_ was wallowing about,
casting showers of spray over her bow every time she nosed into a
billow.
Harry's heart stood still for an instant. His senses swam dizzily. Then,
with a sudden return of his faculties, he realized what had occurred.
The mooring rope of the _Betsy Jane_ had been cut or had broken, and he
was miles out on the Atlantic without a prospect of succor.